


The First Day

by Pendancy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendancy/pseuds/Pendancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the first day, there is the branch of humanity that Heaven seems to have forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> 9x01 spoilers.

And on the first day, there is kindness: humans with nothing to gain offering their assistance and generosity to other humans. They operate on the gratification of goodness; they operate on his Father’s word, consciously or otherwise. They give freely that which they have earned for the benefit of another and for this, Castiel is grateful. He is grateful that the kindness his Father sought to instill into all rational beings survives even during the most turbulent times. So he takes “a lift.” 

On the first day, he understands the lingering sting of physical pain. Red paints his palm; red will throb over his frail skin long after the blood is gone. The injury is distracting and unpleasant, and Castiel wonders if other fallen ones can hear his own silent scream that teeters just at the edge of his consciousness. He understands why pain precedes death: his father has put it in place to make the transition easier. Better to feel nothing than this. A drop slides down his wrist. Castiel watches it make a slow trail and smiles. 

On the first day, there is the branch of humanity that Heaven seems to have forgotten. The selfish and the angry who seek only to exist within their own parameters, the ones who can turn a blind eye to one so clearly desperate, the ones who allow pride to rule their thoughts. These, Castiel thinks, are the ones that demons await. The light of his Father is only proven through their existence. They are alive because He has willed it, and so Castiel must leave this be. For now. Perhaps his Father has created them as a basis for comparison. 

On the first day, there is empathy. Something that Castiel acquired long ago on his own, something of which his brothers and sisters have a tendency to be bereft. His sister stands before him: a child who has spanned millennia, a pure force who split the Earth in two to her liking, a creature who begs for assistance with too-blue eyes carried over from Grace that reflect Castiel’s own. 

She smiles when Castiel lies.

She is lost, she is fallen, she is whirring with spite — she exudes the determination that Castiel has seen present in the Winchesters — stubbornness and frustration, determined to find a means to an end in her favor. She is a warrior, a powerful thing stripped of her ability to fight. Her stolen human flesh will rot. She shines as brightly as their Grace when Castiel shows her the only mercy he knows. In the end, he must keep them all safe. For this, she is his victim twice-over. 

Again, there is blood: the life-flow that sings his Father’s praises now taints his coat, his shirt, his skin. His own, his sister’s — blood that stains near-black when torn away from the soul’s vessel. 

And then there is Dean. 

There is _always_ Dean. 

Castiel prays in silence that Ezekiel can help him where he cannot. 

His human body demands rest; his human stomach growls at him at the thought of food. His human legs are tired and each breath feels deeper than the last. It is dark out here; his stolen shirt does nothing to protect his vulnerable body from the chill. A passing pair of headlights makes him squint. An arm raises up to shield his eyes before the desolate road goes dim once more.


End file.
